Everyone Needs a Hero
by Deja Know I Been Lookin For Vu
Summary: Vader is MIA, and Luke is the only one who can find him. But where is Vader, and what is Luke's motivation for searching? L/V.
1. Chapter 1

**Rating: No language, some violence and blood.  
Disclaimer:****I don't own Star Wars, but this story is mine. There are a few snippets of dialogue from the movies; such dialogue is copyright Lucas.**  
**Author's Thanks:****Many many thanks to Kitt for help in the brainstorming department! A lot of the fine details (including the name "Hero of the Sands," which took a while to come by) are due to her great ideas! Thanks also to Sarah, who brainstormed with me on the rescue!  
****Author's Notes:** **This was written for the Vader MIA challenge on the LV Yahoo list. Feedback of all shapes and sizes is welcome.  
Characters: Luke, Vader, Owen, Beru, and others.**

* * *

"Everyone needs a hero, even Tatooine." 

The moisture farmer scowled. He didn't think Tatooine needed a hero, and he certainly didn't believe pure altruism existed on the desert planet. This "Hero of the Sands" character had to possess some ulterior motive. "We were doing just fine before this hero came along," he stated as he placed his glass on the table.

His nephew shrugged. "Maybe 'just fine' isn't good enough."

Before Owen could reply to Luke, Beru broke in, "I'm thankful for what the Hero of the Sands has done. I think his kindness is just what Tatooine needs."

Her husband grumbled something under his breath before replying. "His kindness could bring Tatooine a lot of trouble. When the Empire finds proof that he's using Jedi powers, we'll have a swarm of Imperials upon our heads. There are enough Stormtroopers walking on the streets as it is."

"The Empire doesn't need proof," Luke said quietly, his voice sounding bitter. "They'd arrest him without proof if they could catch him."

"But fortunately there are a lot of people who appreciate what he's doing," Beru noted gently, smiling at her nephew. "They'd turn themselves in before they'd turn him in."

Owen scowled. "Why is he on Tatooine, anyway? Aren't there more populated planets where he could do more good?"

"Maybe he can't get off Tatooine, or maybe there's something else holding him back," Luke ventured tentatively.

His uncle raised his eyebrows. "Well, don't you be getting any ideas, Luke. The hero career is usually a short one—he'll be caught soon enough, mark my word."

Beru shook her head at her husband. "Hush, Owen...Luke, you look tired. Why don't you go to bed early?"

Luke sighed. "That's a good idea, Aunt Beru." He nodded at his aunt and uncle. "Good night."

* * *

An hour later, a figure stood upon a dune, overlooking the city of Mos Eisley. Beside the figure rested a heavily modified airspeeder, a strange mishmash of parts that was able to reach surprising speeds. 

A dry desert wind blew, ruffling the figure's black cloak. With sable gloves, the being reached up to pull his hood further over his head, so that all that could be seen of his face was its lower half and a hint of the black mask that covered his eyes.

He was called the Hero of the Sands. From the sands, he would come, and to the sands, he would go. His name, which had been given to him one night by an impressed local, was spoken with both fear and awe. Tatooinian residents might know little about him, but they considered him theirs, and their embracing of the name "Hero of the Sands" was a reflection of that. They did not know that he hated Tatooine.

He walked slowly away from his airspeeder, his cloak trailing in the sand. Few were brave enough to venture near his choice of vehicle, and those who did received a nasty electrical shock. He was one of only two people on-planet that could operate his airspeeder, and he didn't expect that to change any time soon.

When he finally entered Mos Eisley, he walked quietly through the streets, skillfully dodging a few drunk passersby. He reached out with his senses, searching for trouble, and he soon found it.

He was able to hide his presence from the weak-minded, and fortunately there were no strong-minded individuals out on the street. When he leapt up to the top of a building, he remained unseen by any nearby sentients. He jumped from roof to roof, finally landing on the ground on the opposite side of Mos Eisley.

Tusken Raiders were coming. He could feel the presence of both them and their banthas, and he could feel the belligerent aura that surrounded them. They were preparing for an attack.

He concentrated carefully, trying to determine their numbers.

"What are you looking at?" a curious voice asked from behind him.

Cursing his inability to divide his concentration, the Hero of the Sands swiveled around to face the one who had disturbed him.

The human's eyes widened. "It's _you_!"

He nodded slowly. Then, in a low voice, he told the man, "There are Tusken Raiders coming. I'm going to try to stop them."

He strode forward, ignoring the man's resultant gasp and protestation that he couldn't do it alone. He could have retrieved his airspeeder, but it would be easier to just try to protect himself. Several Tusken projectile rifles shooting at the airspeeder would probably cause some heavy damage.

Kneeling, he touched the sand beneath his feet for a moment in contemplation. This night, he would prove himself worthy of his namesake.

As he walked, sands began to swirl up around him, gaining in intensity each second. He went to the top of a dune, and there the Sand People were.

In single-file, they moved, spread out far beyond what he could see. It didn't take long before the ones near the front saw him and gestured with their gaffi sticks, urging their banthas forward.

He raised his hands, and the Tuskens at the front of the line were able to see that the sand actually responded to his command. Their banthas fidgeted nervously, and as the Hero of the Sands sent the artificial sandstorm towards them, the head Raider shouted and lifted his gaffi stick. Then, miraculously, the Tusken Raiders called off their raid, turning away from Mos Eisley.

A drop of sweat trickled off his chin as he kept the great sandstorm churning as a warning. It was only when he could no longer see the Tusken Raiders that he released the sandstorm.

Out of fatigue, he collapsed onto his hands and knees, panting. That was the greatest effort he had ever made (controlling so many small grains of sand was difficult), and he hadn't been certain it would work. It had, though, and he was glad of it. The citizens of Mos Eisley should be safe for the night.

He wiped his brow with a hand, rubbing the sweat onto his cloak. He was drenched in sweat, and he couldn't wait to change.

Glad he had possessed the foresight to slave-rig his airspeeder, he activated his beckon call and waited for his vehicle to come to him. When he was finally seated in the airspeeder, he drove it towards the abandoned sarlaac pit where he stored it (he knew no one would visit the pit out of fear that a sarlaac might still reside there). Ordinarily, he would drive to several Tatooinian cities and perhaps check out some moisture farms, but he was feeling too tired to help anyone else. Since he always had to be alert in case there were Imperials nearby, fatigue was always very bad for him.

Waiting for him at the abandoned sarlaac pit, however, was a brown-cloaked humanoid who seemed unaffected by the pit's presence. After stashing his ship in the pit, the Hero of the Sands walked over to the figure.

"I felt what you did," the other said as he pulled down his hood, revealing a kind human face. Somehow, he managed to sound both impressed and admonishing. "The effort involved was tremendous."

"I know, Master, I should have been shielding my presence. I'm sorry."

Obi-Wan Kenobi gave a sad smile. "Well, perhaps it does not matter." He shifted, reaching into his robe to grab a datapad. "I thought you might like to look at this."

The offered datapad was taken, its contents reviewed quickly. Apparently, Darth Vader, Military Executor and Supreme Commander of the Imperial Fleet, had disappeared. The Emperor's representatives had noted that Lord Vader had failed to check in at the designated time and that his communications unit did not seem to be functional. Anyone with details of the Sith Lord's disappearance was to report to the nearest Imperial commander immediately.

"I must search for him," the Hero of the Sands stated quietly. He didn't notice the look of surprise that passed over Obi-Wan's face.

"Why do you feel you must search for him, Luke?"

Luke Skywalker shrugged, fiddling with the hem of his cloak. "With the powers we have been given, you and me are best suited for finding Lord Vader—he must have left behind some trace that we could sense with the Force...I may not agree with the Sith Lord's policies—and if I find him, I will tell him that—but I also do not believe in overthrowing leaders. That is why I must go..." He straightened, his decision solidly made. "Will you go with me, Obi-Wan?"

Obi-Wan shook his head slowly, his sadness easily evident to Luke. "This is your mission alone, Luke. You have learned all you could from me—you simply need to try to remember it..." He gave a gentle smile. "Hold on to your peace, Luke, and do not reach to anger...Also, do not worry about your aunt and uncle; I will watch over them. As for your passage offworld, well, I have some money for you...It will not be enough for you to buy your own ship, though—I'm afraid you must sell your speeder to make up the rest of that."

Luke stiffened. Trying to collect himself, he closed his eyes. He had been through a lot with the vehicle—he had not only built it, but he had also ridden around in it so much that it was almost like his second skin. With the speeder, he'd chased down bandits, rescued people from Tusken Raiders, and navigated the twists and turns of Beggar's Canyon. Selling it would almost be like selling part of his life—it stood as a symbol of what he had accomplished.

He could feel Obi-Wan watching him carefully, so he slowly opened his eyes. The Jedi were supposed to have no attachments, and that's what he was working towards becoming: a Jedi. "I will sell it," he whispered, trying but failing to keep emotion out of his voice.

Obi-Wan handed the young man a bag of credits—money he'd been saving for years just for this purpose—and reached back into his cloak one last time. "I have one more thing for you, Luke. Your father would have wanted you to have this."

Luke stared at Obi-Wan's outstretched hand, shock written across his face. The Jedi was holding out a lightsaber—a _lightsaber_!

Luke had practiced with Obi-Wan's lightsaber, so he was well-acquainted with the weapon, and a few times the Jedi had even let him borrow it (its ability to deflect blaster bolts had come in handy a few times). But now, now—he finally had a lightsaber of his own.

Trembling for reasons he was unsure of, Luke took the lightsaber gently from his mentor's hand. He switched it on, listening to it hum as he twisted his wrist. The blue blade was just like Obi-Wan's, and he felt a measure of comfort in that.

"Thank you," Luke said, his voice tight.

"Just remember, Luke...You are never really alone; you will always have the Force."

Luke nodded, clipping the lightsaber to his belt. He gazed at his teacher and friend sorrowfully. "I will miss you, Obi-Wan."

"I know, Luke," the Jedi Master replied softly.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Thanks: Thanks for the reviews, guys!**

* * *

Luke left his aunt and uncle a note, which, while kindly worded, was somewhat ambiguous. He wanted to say goodbye to them, but he knew Uncle Owen would be angry and try to stop him. And though most of his being was shouting with joy at the opportunity to leave the wretched desert planet, there was a part of him that didn't want to go, that might be convinced by Uncle Owen's protests, that insisted he felt more at peace with the sands than he would anywhere else. Tatooine, for all its barrenness, was home, a place he knew well. And now he was leaving all he knew for the unknown, all in the attempt to save the life of a man who cared nothing for the lives of others. 

He knew Aunt Beru would understand and be able to calm Uncle Owen down; she knew how much he wanted to leave Tatooine. He even thought she suspected the true identity of the Hero of the Sands, though she had never spoken her suspicions out loud. Uncle Owen certainly had no clue—if he had, then Luke would have been grounded for the rest of his life. As it was, if Luke ever came back, he would probably be grounded for the rest of his life _and_ his afterlife.

When Luke went to sell his beloved airspeeder, he did so in his Hero of the Sands guise. He might be leaving behind that identity with Tatooine, but he didn't want the mystery surrounding the Hero of the Sands to dissipate. As a child, he had always been fascinated with stories of heroes, and maybe, just maybe, another child would one day like to hear stories about the Hero of the Sands.

The quiet man who bought Luke's airspeeder gave him a sum that was more than reasonable, and Luke suspected that the man thought the speeder's origins meant it would probably fetch a larger price later. Whether it would or not, Luke would never know, but it didn't really matter.

As Luke turned to leave his airspeeder behind, the quiet man spoke. "You're leaving Tatooine, aren't you?"

Hating to lie any more than necessary, Luke moved to look at the man as he nodded. "I have to."

"You did a lot of good here," grunted the man. "Tatooine will miss you."

Luke smiled gratefully, lowering his head. "Thank you...I will miss Tatooine, too."

* * *

It didn't take long for Luke to buy a ship. It certainly wasn't the most impressive ship in the galaxy, but it was able to seat two people and it possessed a working hyperdrive. All Luke really needed was to be able to get from planet to planet, so it would serve his purposes. As he lifted off from his home planet, rather than finding himself thanking the stars for the grand opportunity before him, he found himself begging the stars to stop him from feeling so sick to his stomach.

* * *

Unbeknownst to the rest of the galaxy, Darth Vader was not lost, hurt, captured, dead, sick, or amnesiac. He was, in fact, quite intact, if perhaps a bit annoyed. 

He had gone alone to investigate rumors of the presence of a Jedi. Rather than piloting his cramped TIE/Advanced, he had decided to pilot the _Ruthless_, a spacious _Lambda_-class Imperial shuttle that he used from time to time. The planet that the rumors originated from, Epac, had turned out to be well-populated and full of very closed-mouthed natives. Unaccustomed to this unwillingness to spill secrets, Vader might have crushed a few more bones than was strictly necessary, but that was all part of the life of a Sith Lord.

While on Epac, Vader had moved from person to person until the Force finally led him to someone he (forcefully) persuaded to reveal the name "Yoda." The informant, Vader learned was a non-native, which had simply made Vader even more infuriated with Epac's native inhabitants. With the name "Yoda," Vader managed to follow a trail of fear (and more reluctant Epacians) that led him to a native merchant.

After reaching out to the Force, Vader was certain that this merchant was the Epacian he wanted to speak to, but the closed-mouthed native had taken quite a while before Vader finally convinced him to talk. Once he began talking, however, details spilled out every which way. Unfortunately, Vader didn't care about most of the details the merchant was giving (weather conditions were of no interest to a Dark Lord of the Sith), but the fearful man finally began to babble about how an "odd little green man" had bought supplies from him not too long ago.

"What was his destination?" Vader had inquired, towering over the short native.

"Well, he was probably going a lot of places. He looked like he was well traveled—a being as old as he had to have been around the galaxy a few times. He reminded me a lot of my Great-Uncle Jintasth, as a matter of fact..."

"His destination?" the Sith Lord had rumbled, lightly touching his lightsaber.

Seeing the movement, the native's green eyes had widened. "Ah, yes, well, he did mention the name 'Namrepus,' though I would much rather be here than there. I hear the weather there around this time of year is terrible..."

Deciding to leave the merchant alive against his better judgment, Vader had turned and left, leaving the merchant sputtering behind him. Vader had known he would learn no more from the citizens of Epac.

Due to report to Palpatine in a few hours, Vader had decided to go ahead and make his report before making the leap to hyperspace. He had soon discovered, however, that his communications unit was not working. Confident that he could fix it, he had begun tinkering with the unit, only to discover that a part needed replacing. A look through the shuttle's spare parts, however, revealed that the spare part was nowhere to be found, and he had vowed to show those responsible for stocking the ship just what a mistake it was not to store such a valuable part on board.

Vader decided he would buy a replacement part at Namrepus, but after making the jump into hyperspace, he had begun reading up on the planet, only to discover that it was technologically primitive and would not have the part he needed.

And so, on Namrepus hours later, Vader had still not reported to Palpatine. He was almost glad his communicator wasn't working—Yoda, if he were indeed alive, was clever, and he might be able to intercept a transmission made by the Sith Lord. While he knew Yoda would probably not leave a trail unless he wanted to be found, he hoped to retain a small element of surprise. What Vader didn't know was that speculation about his disappearance was raging across the galaxy.

* * *

Luke had orbited Tatooine for half an hour. He had begun meditating after a few minutes of stargazing (he had decided that the stars looked even better from space), and finally a name had come to him: Epac. He looked it up in the charts, a chill coursing through him at the thought of visiting a planet other than Tatooine. The planet, which was thankfully not too far from Tatooine, possessed lots of trees and sparkling waterfalls, and after landing Luke found himself gazing around in amazement for a few minutes before he reluctantly reached out to the Force. He was on a mission, and being side-tracked could be fatal to Lord Vader. 

He was quickly guided to a native merchant that was surprisingly open-mouthed. With just a little bit of prodding, the merchant began telling him all about his frightening experience with the Dark Lord.

"I was brave, of course," the merchant sniffled, "but even the bravest of the brave would cower underneath the black tower they call Darth Vader...And that noise he makes—it's enough to send a more cowardly man running off in the other direction. Not that I considered running, of course. I'm very brave...My second-cousin says that..."

After several minutes of listening to the merchant prattle on, Luke caught the name "Namrepus," which was all he needed. He interrupted the merchant's babble. "Many thanks for your help, friend. I will remember you."

"Oh, it was no problem at all—" the merchant began, but Luke had already made his escape.

* * *

After reaching Namrepus, Vader reached out to the Dark Side. Immediately, he had sensed a faint echo of Yoda; he had known then that the alien _was_ still alive, nine hundred years old or not. He skillfully landed his shuttle outside a patch of wilderness, though the clearing was not very large. He walked several yards into the trees, scattering several nocturnal creatures, before he finally stopped at one large tree. The tree was small, but it looked old nonetheless. Carved into the tree close to the ground was the name "Dagobah" and a set of coordinates. 

Darth Vader knew then for certain that Yoda was leaving an invitation to a planet where he could determine the rules, and Vader willing to accept that. It was only natural that the Jedi would want to choose his final resting place. The old Jedi had always liked setting the rules. The Jedi Temple had practically revolved around them.

After landing, Vader was overwhelmed by the mass of life forms that existed on the swampy planet of Dagobah. Unexpectedly, the Dark Side was of little use to him in his search—he could not sense the presence of Yoda amongst all the other life forms present. He suspected, however, that the abundance of life was not the only reason he was having difficulty.

Very well, then. He would walk through the swamp, for hours if need be. He knew Yoda would find him eventually, even if Vader had landed on the opposite side of the planet.

* * *

When Luke landed on Namrepus, he was able to feel lingering remnants of Darth Vader's presence. The remnants were dark, of course, as was to be expected from a Dark Lord of the Sith, but Luke also thought there was a hint of nostalgia buried amongst the darkness. With a frown, he tried to separate the nostalgia from the darkness...He managed to receive an image of a small green alien, but he was unable to receive any other images. 

This planet amazed him as much as Epac had—the trees were smaller and of different kinds, but for a desert farmboy unaccustomed to so many plants in one place, Namrepus was remarkable. If only he didn't feel rushed to find the Sith Lord—then he could have explored Epac and Namrepus at his leisure.

Reluctantly, Luke reached out to the Force, ensuring that he treaded where Lord Vader had treaded. The familiarness of the sensation struck him as very odd...It was almost as if he knew the Dark Lord, as if he could follow his path without even trying. The Force was guiding him easily, without any prodding from him, which seemed almost eerie.

Finally, Luke stopped before a tree. He closed his eyes, touching the tree reverently. He knelt, running his hands over the old plant, finally pulling his hands back when he discovered that some of the bark was missing. He opened his eyes, reading out loud, "Dagobah."

A few hours later, he was exiting hyperspace.

* * *

"Come, you have." 

Vader turned, glad that his hours of searching were over. Several yards behind him, Yoda was standing on a log, using a gimer stick to support his weight. He looked so small and insignificant next to the tree beside him that Vader might have been compelled to underestimate him had he not known better. And yet, Vader wondered if perhaps he were overestimating the Jedi...The years had deprived the alien of more of his hair, and he was hunched over more than Vader had remembered him being. The once-great Yoda had been reduced to this pathetic creature. Not even the Jedi could escape the years, try though they might.

Vader lit his lightsaber, taking a few steps forward. "I have come to finish what I started. I have come to kill the last Jedi."

"The last Jedi, I am not," the alien replied quietly, unaffected by Vader's movements. "Hope, the galaxy still has."

"The galaxy has already been guided towards the right. The Empire has been that guide."

Yoda shook his head. "Fear is not a guide. Only a motivator, is fear. A guide teaches one to surpass fear."

"The Jedi failed as guides."

"Right, you are," Yoda admitted sadly, taking Vader aback. "Blinded by arrogance were the Jedi...Yet hope still remains for those who from their mistakes learn."

"I learned that to trust a Jedi is a mistake," Vader said in a low voice, moving forward a few more feet.

"Trusting in Palpatine was your mistake. The death of Padmé from that was born."

The Dark Lord moved even closer, anger evident in his voice. He was angry because of the Jedi, he told himself. He was not angry because of the pain. "Right now, the only death I am interested in is yours."

"Old am I, Anakin," said the alien in a weak voice. "Nothing to fear have you from me. By killing me, gain nothing will you."

"I am Darth Vader now," the Dark Lord reminded him. "And I will gain the satisfaction of knowing I killed one of the Jedi's greatest." Vader pointed his saber at Yoda's throat.

Yoda closed his eyes. "But have the satisfaction of meeting your son, you will not."


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Thanks: Many thanks to Moy for betaing this chapter! The portion involving the gang is mostly her wonderful wording, and she had some other excellent suggestions. This is the final chapter, in case you were wondering.  
**

* * *

The swampy planet below him was teeming with life forms. Never before had Luke felt the presence of the Force so vividly. It seemed to penetrate his very being, infusing him with the power to sense more than he ever could before. He felt almost as if he could leap tall buildings in a single bound, though the mental image that brought up caused him to chuckle. 

Luke landed his ship in a clearing that the Force seemed to be pulling him towards, and he took a moment to surround himself with the Light Side. _Let the Force be your guide,_ he told himself calmly. When he reached out to the Force, he sensed a strongly neutral region, as if two polar opposites on the planet were canceling themselves out. He moved towards the strange spot, weaving through the trees and undergrowth. As he dodged an angry-looking snake, he reflected that he wasn't as impressed by Dagobah as he had been by Epac and Namrepus. The latter two planets had possessed remarkable forests—and though the presence of large amounts of water was strange for the desert farmboy, he didn't like the mucky feeling of swampland.

At last, he came upon Vader in the neutral area. The Sith Lord seemed strangely unnerved and was pointing a red lightsaber at a small green alien. Sensing his presence, Vader turned and demanded, "Who are you?"

Luke blinked at Vader for a moment before giving a tentative reply. "I'm Luke Skywalker, and I'm here to rescue you..." Quickly, he added, "Erm, sir." It didn't look like the Sith Lord was in much need of saving, despite what was being said in the news, and Luke was beginning to feel rather sheepish. Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea...

"Skywalker?" the Dark Lord echoed, turning to look at the alien.

The small being did not respond; he simply closed his eyes.

Luke was beginning to wonder if the Sith Lord had a bit of a hearing problem...Or perhaps the Dark Lord was senile? "The galaxy thinks you've disappeared, sir."

"Disappeared?" queried Vader in confusion.

Maybe he _did_ have a hearing problem. "Yes, sir. When you failed to contact the Emperor, the worst was assumed."

"I assure you, I am quite alive...I came here to kill the last of the—" Vader paused, as if a thought had occurred to him. "Are you a Jedi, Skywalker?"

Luke hesitated. "I'm an Imperial citizen," he said carefully, dodging the question. "And I was wanting to talk with you about some of your policies, sir. You see, there are many in the galaxy who don't think that killing subordinates who have irritated you is—"

"_Are_ you a _Jedi_?" thundered the Dark Lord.

Luke swallowed. He knew he would be unable to lie to this powerful Force user, even if it could mean his death. And so, he told the truth. "Just a—a Jedi apprentice...sir."

Vader pointed his lightsaber at the alien. "I have a son who has been trained as a Jedi?"

"I hadn't realized you had a son, sir. Is he on Dagobah, too?" Luke inquired curiously. He began looking around to see if he had missed someone.

"_You_ are my son!" Vader said firmly.

"Excuse me, sir," Luke said, blinking in confusion. "What did you just say? Uh, no offense, sir, but you can't be my father—my father was a navigator on a spice freighter, and he died a long time ago."

Vader turned back to Luke. "You are my _son_! The Jedi must have hidden you from me." Darkly, he said, "They delighted in ripping children from their families."

"With family, he was," the alien noted calmly, though his expression seemed pained. "Said yourself, you did, that you are Anakin Skywalker no longer."

"My son should have been with me," Vader insisted.

"I _am_ here, you know," Luke inserted after clearing his throat. Having gained their attention, he queried, "How did you know my father was Anakin Skywalker?"

Vader lowered his saber slowly. "Because I was Anakin Skywalker."

Luke shook his head adamantly. This was ridiculous. "You can't be my father."

"My saber hangs at your belt."

Subconsciously, the young man grasped at his lightsaber. How could Vader know that the saber had belonged to his father?

"What do your feelings tell you, Luke?" the alien asked gently.

Feeling almost fearful, not really wanting to know the answer, Luke considered simply leaving the planet. But he knew he couldn't really do that; he felt his destiny were somehow connected to this moment. Slowly and deliberately, he reached out to the Force, searching inwards. After a few moments, he clenched his eyes shut. "My father is...alive?"

"Join me. We will kill this pathetic creature, and then we will overthrow the Emperor and rule the galaxy as father and son."

Luke looked at the sad Jedi—for he _was_ a Jedi, Luke realized—and then at the proud Sith. He shook his head slowly. "I do not believe in coups, and I will not kill another sentient being."

The Sith was quiet for a few seconds before saying, "Then you will meet your death." He swung his lightsaber at Luke.

* * *

Luke blocked Vader's lightsaber with the lightsaber that had belonged to Anakin. It was hard for him to take in what had happened... 

His father was two different people...At least, he _had_ been two different people...

One of the people, the good one, had been known as Anakin Skywalker. He must have loved Luke's mother—somehow, Luke knew he had.

The other one, the bad one, was presently known as Darth Vader. He seemed to have love for no one.

But how could that be? How could one go from love to hate without a glance back behind at love?

As he parried one of Vader's blows, he wondered—what if Anakin weren't completely gone? What if he were simply buried beneath the hatred?

He reached out, trying to sense Vader's emotions, but all he felt was a wall of hatred. Maybe he could make that wall flicker...

Luke flipped over backwards, dodging a blow and buying himself a little speaking time. Vader was a good dueler, and Luke wasn't sure if he could talk and duel at the same time. If he tried, he'd probably get a limb or two lopped off.

"Father, do you remember mother?"

There was the flicker he'd wanted, Luke noted triumphantly.

"Your mother is dead because of the Jedi," Vader said coldly, stalking forward.

Luke backed up, almost tripping over a plant but catching himself just in time. "Did they kill her?"

The alien spoke up. "Died out of love, did she."

Vader slashed viciously at Luke, who barely managed to block it. Angering Vader was dangerous, but appealing to the man inside was Luke's only hope. He knew he couldn't last indefinitely, and he refused to kill Vader himself.

Trusting that the Force would keep him from losing any limbs and would guide him towards what he should say, Luke ventured, "She died after you turned, didn't she?"

Judging by the increased ferocity of Vader's blows, Luke figured he had hit the mark. "Why did you turn?"

"I turned to save her. The Dark Side is more powerful than the Light—I was going to save her, but she turned on me."

"It sounds...to me like you're...the one who...turned on her," Luke gritted as he was pushed back by Vader's onslaught. What had happened to the Dark Lord?

"You don't know the power of the Dark Side," Vader insisted. "I could have saved her."

"Father, you can't save everyone," Luke said seriously, parrying one of Vader's strikes.

Try though he might, Luke could not push back the insistent year-old memory that was gnawing at his conscience. He could still feel the cool night air whispering across his cheeks as he fought back the sneering and heavily armed gang surrounding a cowering rag-clad couple...Blood had pounded in his ears, his breath thundering as he fought...When the gang had fled down an alley and he'd turned to see if the couple was unharmed, he had heard the high-pitched scream of a young girl. He had moved as fast as he could, using the Force to increase his speed, but he wasn't fast enough. He had found her small limp body in a puddle of grease, still bleeding out from her fatal wounds. The Rodian who had killed her was fleeing, and Luke had nearly followed him, but his anger had been so white hot, he'd lost his vision for a few seconds.

The Rodian escaped, unpunished for his actions.

He'd been angry at himself for his failure, at the gang for preventing him from reaching the Rodian in time, at the couple for deciding to take a midnight stroll, at the Rodian for killing the girl...He'd wanted to kill, wanted to seek vengeance in some way. Obi-Wan's quiet words, uttered to pacify him, still echoed in his memory: "No one can be in two places at once, Luke; sometimes, it is impossible to save someone right in front of your eyes." Luke had wondered about that last bit, about the sorrow Obi-Wan had expressed, but he finally thought he understood the Jedi's sadness. Obi-Wan had been close to Anakin, but Anakin had fallen into darkness despite his efforts—for Luke knew Obi-Wan must have tried to stop him.

With every blow, Luke felt as if his heart were breaking a little bit more. This was not how it was supposed to be...He had dreamed about reuniting with his father, had dreamed that his father was not dead...They shouldn't be fighting; they should be talking. The father should not reunite with the son only to war with him.

"Your training is still incomplete," Vader rumbled, staying on the offensive. "I can complete your training. You can become more powerful than the Emperor, Luke."

Luke shook his head. "I do not want power...I do not want to kill...All that I want is for my father, Anakin Skywalker, to return."

"That name no longer holds any meaning," growled the Sith Lord.

Desperate for a lifeline, Luke spoke to the wizened alien. "Master Jedi, can you describe my mother?"

Luke winced as Vader's fury increased, but the Jedi's words were almost like a healing salve upon Luke's spirit.

"Strong, Padmé was. Stood up for what she believed in, she did. Loved Anakin, she did—so much so that live without him, she could not."

"She didn't _want_ to live without you, Father," Luke panted, trying to make the Sith Lord believe in his words. The young man's arms were trembling with fatigue, and he knew he soon would be out of the duel. "She's gone now. But I'm here, Father...And I don't want to live without you either."

Vader extinguished his lightsaber with his left hand, using his right hand to gesture towards Luke. A moment later, Luke found himself slammed viciously against a tree with the Dark Side of the Force. He cried out in pain.

* * *

At Luke's gasp of pain, Vader moved his eyes to his son's torso. He was certain that for a moment his heart stopped. 

The power behind Vader's Force throw had caused the two-foot stub of a tree branch to pierce Luke's chest.

Vader dropped his lightsaber. "Luke," he whispered hoarsely. "What have I done?"

Luke's eyes were clenched shut in pain. He moved his hands to cover his wound, but blood soon seeped out through his fingers.

The young Jedi opened his eyes. Tears shone in them, but they weren't caused by his injury. "It's all right, Father," he whispered. "I forgive you. I love you, and I forgive you."

The armor-clad man moved forward, kneeling at his son's feet. "Luke...Luke..."

Luke reached out a blood-soaked hand to touch Vader's helmet. "Father...Would you—would you take the mask off?"

"Anything, Luke," his father whispered. He removed his helmet, revealing a pale face with two tear-filled orbs.

Luke smiled. "I knew there was good in you," he said simply before slipping into unconsciousness.

"Yoda!" the stricken man cried out after fumbling to put his helmet back on. His son was losing so much blood—he was losing his son! "I've done it again. I've killed—he's—"

"Hope for the boy, there still is," Yoda said quietly. "But only you can do it...I am too old, too tired...Enough, the Dark Side will not be—with destructive force, you cannot heal. To the Light, you must reach."

Trembling, Vader tried to touch the Light. It had been so long, he wasn't sure he knew how, but there it was, shining like a beacon, waiting for him to embrace it. He removed his son from the tree with the Force, placing his hands gently on his son's chest. Embracing the Light Side, he began to pour healing energy into his son.

He felt Yoda—tired old Yoda—trying to help him, and though the alien's effort was not much, combined, the efforts of the two Force users were just enough.

The bleeding soon stopped; tissues were being repaired. Luke would live, but his father and Yoda were too drained to finish the job completely, so they pulled back from the Force.

"We need to get him to a medcenter; the medical stores in my ship are primitive...Yoda, will you come with me?"

As Yoda looked at his formal pupil, he sensed the earnestness behind the request. Giving a gentle smile, the alien replied, "Support you in this, I will, Anakin."

* * *

While in hyperspace, to get his mind off what had happened to his son, Anakin began contemplating how to overthrow Palpatine. He had a feeling Luke wouldn't help—the youth had said outright that he didn't support coups, and somehow, he knew his son would adhere to his beliefs even if he knew of Palpatine's true character. 

At the sound of a moan, Anakin got up from his seat, his black cape swishing as he moved to his son's side. "Luke?"

The boy frowned, looking puzzled. "Are you dead, too?"

Anakin laughed, though the synthesized version of his laugh was somewhat frightening-sounding. "You're not dead, Luke. Yoda and I helped heal you...Luke, I want you to know that you saved me. You saved me from myself."

The youth took a few moments to take everything in before he grinned at his father. "I guess we're both quite the heroes, huh?"

His father chuckled. "_You're_ quite the hero, Luke. Who would have thought you'd be saving Darth Vader?"

As Luke closed his eyes, he said sleepily and matter-of-factly to his smiling father, "Everyone needs a hero, even Vader."


End file.
